


To Get To You.

by bokuakachan



Series: To Get To You (Akaashi Keiji) [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Co-workers, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Love, Fluff and Smut, High School, My First Work in This Fandom, Past Abuse, Series, Smut, Work In Progress, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:28:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28523199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokuakachan/pseuds/bokuakachan
Summary: You and Akaashi were high school lovers and best friends, enduring many hardships together in school and home while growing up. After an unfortunate break up post-graduation, the two of you are left grieving regretful actions for years. Six years later, you meet again as coworkers, yet  force yourselves to suppress the memories and feelings of the past. Is it really that easy to forget, though?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Original Female Character(s), Miya Atsumu/Original Female Character(s)
Series: To Get To You (Akaashi Keiji) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089431
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	1. Repercussions of a First Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fic on ao3, and although the website is quite confusing, I'm excited to branch out and try different platforms to write fanfiction on. (I chose this one for its popularity). A few things to know-  
> 1.) I am still trying to figure the website out. This fic is meant to be a series meaning it'll have multiple chapters, but that's only if I can figure out how to post chapter 2 as the 'next chapter' to this fic (lol sorry I have a difficult time figuring shit out).   
> 2.) This fic is rated explicit since it will contain future graphic smut, include mentions of prostitution and childhood trauma, and so on. Please be wary of that!  
> 3.) I also have a tumblr with the same username as this platform (bokuakachan). I post all of my stories there first, so if it's easier to read there, please go ahead!
> 
> Okie that's all. I hope anyone who reads this enjoys chapter one! Please feel free to comment your opinions!

**[Dreaming]**

It was the peak of fall.

Autumn colored leaves swayed through the crisp wind, falling onto the ground only to be stepped upon by giddy children and adults. The fall festival your school held annually was in full force as students ran a variety of booths, such as face painting, sack racing, dart games, and cafes. The booth your class chose to run was the dunking booth much to your dismay. Fortunately, you managed to avoid the water and stick to passing out balls for those to throw at the target, yet the possibility of you being dunked wasn’t completely off the board. 

“You ready, Bokuto?” You asked, looking back to see the school’s jock sitting on the dunking platform with the utmost confidence. He flashed you a vibrant grin and nodded.

“Totally. Let them fire away!” 

Turning around to meet the young girl standing before you, you handed her three balls and smiled sweetly. “Please dunk him,” you requested kindly, causing her to giggle. Much to your surprise, the eight year old really had it in her as she nailed the target on her second try, dropping the first year into a pool of water. All the kids in line cheered, anticipating their turn to dunk one of the upperclassmen. 

Bokuto proceeded to sit on the platform and fall into the water as fourth and fifth graders nailed their shots, completely submerging him. As popular as the booth was, the sun eventually started to set and parents piled into their cars with their children and many sweet treats and prizes. 

“I think it’s about time I head out,” Bokuto commented as he climbed down from the attraction. “It seems no one else is coming, and I’ve got a hot date with one of the girls at the cafe.” 

“Nice. I don’t really care.”

“She’s coming to my place tonight,” he bragged, smirking at you as if you were one of the guys who’d cheer him on. Contrary to his expectations, though, the only thing plastered on your face was a look of disgust. 

“Again, I don’t care.” 

“Anyway, see you later!” 

Rolling your eyes at his stupidity, you carried on with your tasks and decided to drain the tank’s water. The stopper was connected to a long chain located next to the platform, meaning you’d have to crawl atop the pool and risk the chances of falling in. However, nobody was even remotely close to the attraction, so it should be fine. 

At least that’s what you assured yourself. 

Climbing into the tank, you balanced yourself on the platform while reaching for the stopper’s chain. It was difficult to grasp, and your legs began to tremble from the strain. “Need some help?” A familiar voice asked, and you immediately knew who it was without having to look. 

“Oh, Akaashi,” you addressed. “Could you please—”

Without _any_ warning, Akaashi slammed his hand against the target, causing you to fall into the tank’s water completely. You could hear his giggles echoing throughout the empty parking lot from beneath the surface, and as you rose gasping for breath, his voice became more prominent. “Did you get it?” He asked, referring to the stopper’s chain you tried so desperately to pull with the utmost caution. “I thought maybe that’d help you.”

“I cannot believe how much of an asshole you are.” Pushing your hair out of your face, you proceeded to hoist yourself out of the tank, shamelessly showing your polka-dotted panties while doing so. Akaashi merely laughed harder at your struggles, though he would soon come to regret his decision. “Get over here!” You exclaimed, lunging onto his backside and wrapping your drenched uniform around his neatly pressed and dry one. 

He demanded you unravel yourself from his body, yet you held on tighter, finding it amusing how he was the miserable one now. The two of you quarreled for a solid ten minutes before falling onto the parking lot’s gravel, soaking wet and calling truce. Akaashi shrugged off his uniform’s blazer and cascaded it over your shoulders, then buttoned the first two buttons. “What are you doing?” You asked defensively, on guard in case he were to try something else.

“You’re soaking wet and wearing a white t-shirt, you know. Keep in mind this is school, not a hentai movie.” 

“And who’s the one who made me look like a star in a hentai movie in the first place?” 

“I dunno. Given how clumsy you are, you probably just slipped and fell.”

You scoffed dryly. “Fuck off.” 

The two of you watched as students and teachers left the school’s campus one by one, abandoning the booths that classes spent months preparing. Peeling yourself off the gravel and standing onto your feet, you loomed over Akaashi as he remained seated on the ground. “What is it?” He asked with an arched brow. “Don’t forget you’re wearing a skirt.” 

“Treat me to dinner.” 

“ _Huh?_ ”

“Well, after dunking me into a tank of water, it’s the least you can do.” 

“Don’t forget you climbed on me like a chimpanzee and soaked my uniform, too.” 

_That’s true._ “Fine, I’ll settle for somewhere cheap.” 

“Did you not hear me? I’m not taking you out to eat.” 

That’s what he said, but within half an hour, the two of you were munching on a shared plate of fries and a milkshake at the nearest fast food joint—all of which Akaashi paid for. It was nearly ten o’clock at night, and you knew he had to leave soon otherwise his parents would worry. As harsh as you came off to be, there was something about the night time that made you vulnerable. Perhaps it was the fear of returning home, or perhaps it was the loneliness that engulfed you the second you went separate ways. Whichever it was, you had to part soon. 

Akaashi caught a glimpse of your solemn expression as you stared off into space. Grabbing one of the few fries left in the basket, he put one end between his teeth and poked your cheek the opposite end. You returned to the present moment only to be greeted by a french fry hanging from his lips. “What are you doing?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion with a hint of judgment. “Are you five? Eat it.” 

“Pocky,” he muttered, proceeding to poke your cheek multiple times with the fry. Your eyes widened at the idea, yet before you had a chance to decline, Akaashi tilted your chin his direction. “Just bite it.” 

“B-But why are you—”

“Do it.” 

A soft shade of scarlet tinted your cheeks as you took the opposite end between your teeth. ‘ _What’s this all about?’_ You thought, embarrassed that one of the few customers or employees would catch the two of you. Nevertheless, Akaashi bite further on fry, inching closer to your lips little by little. His nose grazed yours, making the shade of your cheeks darken. “Enough…” you mumbled, gripping the hem of your skirt as his breath fanned against your skin. The point of the game pocky was to get as close as possible to the other person’s lips without kissing them, yet Akaashi seemed to undermine that rule.

Instead, he leaned into your lips, kissing them sweetly yet with enough pressure to prove it wasn’t an accident. 

Contrary to the look of astonishment plastered on your face, he was completely normal. You replayed the moment over and over again in your head to assure yourself it wasn’t a mishap; that it was impossible for him to accidentally do such a thing. “W-Why… Why?” You asked, struggling to collect your thoughts. “I… seem to be missing something. Why?”

“It was salty,” he stated, referring to the taste of your lips. “Just like you.” Taking a stand from the table, Akaashi proceeded to throw away the trash the two of you accumulated over the past hour. Despite the many ‘ _why’s_ ’ that left your lips, he never gave you a proper explanation, leaving your mind to rack up the many possibilities as to why a french fry turned into a kiss. 

Although it would’ve taken years to realize why he did such a thing, you eventually understood why. 

He was always protecting you in the craziest of ways. 

**[End of Dream]**

_Oh._

You dreamt about him again. 

Sitting up from the disheveled sheets, you stretched your arms as far as they would extend. It was six in the morning, an hour earlier than your alarm intended to wake you up at. It wasn’t a surprise your slumber was cut short, though, after the events of last night. Checking your cell for overnight notifications, you weren’t surprised to see over ten missed calls and twenty unchecked messages, all from Atsumu. The voicemails and texts were apologies about his behavior yesterday, and you recalled the harshness of his tone and words:

_You were a whore when I met you, so why wouldn’t you be one now?_

_I know you’re fucking someone behind my back._

_Fuck you. This relationship is over. I’m tired of dating a slut like yourself._

All said merely because you attended lunch with a coworker last week. 

“I should really break up with him,” you muttered, well aware that was the angel on your shoulder talking. However, the devil insisted on giving her two cents and reminded you of the misery being single brought; the nightmares of childhood trauma, prolonged dreams about him, and desperate need for someone to be there during the late nights. Even if Atsumu was over the top, immature, and easily jealous, he was still there when you wanted him to be. 

And so, you chose to stick with him. 

The day went about as usual starting with a morning cup of coffee, except your early awakening granted you the honor of watching the sunrise. You breathed in the city’s air from your balcony, gathering the confidence needed for your first day at a new company. It was a transfer to a better position with better pay, although still considered a white-collard job. Nevertheless, it was the start of something new. 

And you were someone always looking for change. 

»»————- ♡ ————-««

“… and this is where you’ll be working,” the department’s supervisor pointed out, gesturing to an empty desk surrounded by men and women who couldn’t care less about the new transfer. “If you have any more questions, feel free to let me know. My room is just down the hall from the printers.”

“Will do.” 

“Well, then, I’ll leave you to be.” 

“Thank you.” You smiled sweetly as she trotted away in her pencil skirt and six inch heels. Setting your things atop of the desk, you collapsed in the chair and relieved a heavy sigh. There were already a dozen things you had to take care of, despite it being your first day on the job. Reaching for your cell buried somewhere within the abyss of your purse, you navigated your way to Shimizu’s phone number and sent her a quick text. 

[how about a drink tonight?] 

Much to your surprise, she replied immediately. 

[you need one, too?] 

And so, with plans of booze and girl time in mind, you managed to somehow make it through the day. Each time a co-worker scolded you for incorrectly filing a document, you added a shot to your evening plans. The liquor added throughout the day as you struggled to keep up with the company’s fast paced environment. Your previous boss had advised you it would be a difficult position to handle, but the pay was more persuading than his cautions. 

Eventually, you found yourself on leather booth seats, clinking shot glasses with Shimizu as the two of you drank to today’s stress and tomorrow’ troubles. You weren’t one to maintain relationships, especially with friends, yet she was different. From being eighteen years old as a freshman year in college to twenty-four working at one of the nation’s most successful companies, the two of you remained close friends. If you weren’t spending the weekend between the sheets with one of your lovers, you were out in town with her. 

“I feel like I’ve talked too much tonight,” Shimizu commented, setting the miniature glass on the table with a satisfied sigh. “Tell me what made your day so shitty. I’ve ranted enough about mine.” 

“Where should I start?” You asked, chuckling dryly as you raked over the events of the past twenty-four hours in your mind. “I guess I can start by saying Atsumu and I fought again last night. It wasn’t the worst one, but enough that neither of us could stand to be around each other.”

She looked at you with a hopeless expression, though didn’t say a word. After all, regardless of whether or not she gave her two cents and asked you to leave this guy, nothing would change. It wasn’t that you were particularly in love with Atsumu, either. In fact, you enjoyed his body far more than his personality. However, it was better than being alone. 

“What about work?” She continued. “First day as a new transfer, right?”

“Yeah, and I can’t decide if I regret going there or not.” 

“You’re one of the most capable people I know. You’ll definitely find your place.” 

You flashed her a soft smile before downing the final glass of whiskey for the night. ‘ _Am I, though?’_

Silence fell between the two of you as the sound of glasses clinking mixed with strangers conversing filled the atmosphere. You heard the vibration of your phone against the table’s surface, and lo and behold, it was none other than Atsumu asking to meet later tonight. Shimizu caught a glimpse of his name on your mobile’s screen. “You know, y/n…” she trailed off in a serious tone. “Why don’t you date someone who’s… _good_?”

Your eyes lingered over Atsumu’s contact before pressing down on the power button. 

It wasn’t the first time you heard that question. 

“Define ‘good’,” you said, forcing your mind to suppress an old friend’s image. Unfortunately, though, after consuming a bit too much hard liquor, you weren’t quite in control of your thoughts. 

“Surely you know what I’m talking about. Someone who protects you instead of hurts you; someone who is patient and kind instead of jealous and rude; someone who wants the best for you instead of bringing you down. A person like that. Why don’t you find one?” 

_You already did._

“What if I prefer insensitive, non-committal men?” You asked, mentally cursing your mind for throwing in unwanted thoughts. “It’s easier to be with someone who doesn’t care than with a guy who wants a future with marriage or children.”

“Is this sarcasm, or are you being for real?”

“I’m totally serious right now.”

“I really don’t understand you sometimes.” 

“With someone like Tanaka by your side, I wouldn’t expect you to.” Slipping out from the booth’s seats, you reached into your purse and laid several bills onto the table. “Tonight’s on me, so next weekend’s on you,” you insisted, forcing a playful smile to ease Shimizu’s concerns. “I’ve got somewhere to be, though. I’ll talk to you soon.” 

While exiting the bar, you unlocked your phone and read Atsumu’s messages from earlier. 

[can we meet sometime tonight?]

[i’m sorry about yesterday]

[i miss you] 

You were well aware that was his manhood talking, but it didn’t bother you. The forecast called for thunderstorms at midnight, and after last night’s dream, chances of you falling asleep without someone to distract your thoughts were slim. It was better to be with anybody than nobody. 

[yeah]

[meet me at my place?]

»»————- ♡ ————-««

Endless deadlines, extended work shifts, and countless cups of coffee were put into the first two weeks of your job. The coworkers who once ignored your existence were beginning to call on you to assist them with tedious tasks, which you weren’t sure was a good thing given how slammed you already were. 

“y/n!” Your supervisor, Mrs. Sugawara, addressed from across the office. Setting down the documents in your hands, you immediately abandoned your current assignment to see what it was she requested. “Here,” she said, handing you multiple forms. “These go to the marketing department on the eighth floor. I need you to deliver them to the supervisor for me.” 

Retrieving the papers from her polished nails, you did as told and took the elevator to the eighth floor. Similar to the chaotic, fast-paced work environment of the financial department, those in marketing were equally as disorganized and lively. You weren’t sure where the supervisor’s office was located, so you relied on one of the department’s employees to tell you. “Excuse me,” you said, tapping on a random man’s shoulder. “Where can I find—”

“Sorry, I’m busy,” he interjected, not even giving you the time of day to finish a mere sentence. “If you could get someone else to help you, that’d be great.” 

_‘Inhale, and exhale,’_ you reminded yourself, utterly fed up with the attitude of the employees who work here. Leaning over the man’s shoulder, you slammed your hand over the papers lying before him and smiled sweetly. “Where can I find the department’s supervisor?” You repeated firmly, determined to get an answer. 

He was startled, and reasonably so. Adjusting the rims of his glasses, he pointed a trembling hand to a hallway at the far end of the room. “O-Over there…” 

“Thank you.” 

You worked your way around the maze of desks, and located the supervisors office down the directed hallway with ease. Much to your dismay, however, the door was locked, concealing an empty room with not a soul inside. Before you had a chance to question where the department head was, a woman with a clipboard in one hand and coffee in the other approached you.

“Can I help you?” She asked, seemingly knowledgeable of the marketing department’s affairs. Flickering her gaze to the papers in your hand, she hummed as if understanding what it was you were tasked to do. “Looking for the supervisor, I assume?”

“Ah—yes. Do you know where I can find him?”

“Mr. Akaashi won’t be returning to the office until next week. I’m his secretary, though, so I can relay these papers to him, if you’d like.”

“Please—” 

_Wait._

The smile on your face faded upon hearing that surname. It was as if your brain had flat lined as your stomach knotted and heart swelled, feelings of confusion and anxiety overwhelming you. The woman standing before you took note of your sudden nausea, and slipped the clipboard beneath her forearm to lend a helping hand as you began to sway. 

“Are you alright?” She asked. “Do you need somewhere to rest?” 

“N-No…” you trailed off, forcing yourself to grasp a sliver of composure. Despite the shock pulsing through your body, you managed to hand her the forms with a soft smile. “Please… give these to him, if you would.” 

“Of course.” Her eyes lingered on your backside as you proceeded to walk away, worried you might collapse from the unexpected queasiness. Nevertheless, you held yourself together until exiting the department. The second you were alone in the elevators, your knees buckled and backside slid down the stainless steel surface. Just the sound of his name brought back memories—unwanted, yet unforgettable memories. 

_His smell._

_His fingertips._

_His voice._

_His smile._

_Him._

“Calm down,” you whispered, fluttering your eyes closed to focus on breathing. “This could be someone else.” Despite the multiple attempts to ease your heart and mind, nothing proved to be successful. You heard the beep of the elevator’s doors, signaling you had arrived back to the financial department. Before they could open, though, you ran your fingers down the panel to buy yourself some time to be alone. It had been six years. 

Six _years_. 

And yet, you still couldn’t find the courage to confront the past. 

»»————- ♡ ————-««

**[Dreaming]**

_Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump…_

The sound of Akaashi’s heartbeat settled your troubled heart as the midnight moon peeked through his blinds. Your thoughts were clouded with ‘what ifs’ after the argument with your mother earlier; the two of you exchanged words that left scars on the heart, and in a state of devastation, you fled to Akaashi’s home. He embraced your tears with open arms, and although that should’ve soothed your sorrows, you were still worried. 

What was your mother going to do when you returned tomorrow? 

Would she be furious beyond reasoning, or ignore your existence entirely? 

Both outcomes terrified you. 

“Oi,” a deep voice said, startling you. Lifting your head from Akaashi’s bare chest, you locked with his gaze. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” He asked as if he’d been awake this entire time. 

“Wait, you never fell asleep?”

“Neither did you.” 

You searched his gaze, unsure why you felt the sudden urge to cry. His fingertips traced patterns on the bare skin of your lower back, eyes patiently watching you, waiting for some type of response. You wanted to confess your fears to this person; to admit that you were terrified of going home; to admit that you were more scared to see your mother ignore you than scream at you; to admit that here recently, you can’t seem to fall asleep at all. 

And yet, you couldn’t. 

“Can you sing to me?” You asked weakly with vulnerable eyes. Lying your head back down on Akaashi’s chest, you focused on his scent and skin to calm your mind. “Please.”

He relieved a heavy sigh, clearly not one to sing, but willing to do so for your sake. “What song?” 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

It didn’t surprise you when the lyrics Akaashi began to sing were nothing close to belonging to a sweet, romantic song. In fact, it was everything but that. 

_‘She’s got some nice long hair_

_And you know that she’s a bad chick_

_All the boys stare_

_Can’t help it it’s a habit_

_Clothes that she wears_

_Short skirt and a jacket_

_I just wanna get her all alone_

_On a mattress…’_

Despite the tears threatening to trickle down your cheeks, you giggled softly at his song of choice. It was Rumors by Neffex, one of your favorites that Akaashi knew like the back of his hand since you listened to it so much. His low, raspy voice resonated across your body as a feeling of warmth overcame you. Slowly but surely, your eyes began to flutter shut, focusing on the sound of his voice and the touch of his fingertips. 

_Contentment_. 

**[End of Dream]**

12:37AM. 

That was the time you woke up to see on your cell, midnight moon peeking through the blinds as the faint sound of vehicles on the highway filled the quiet room. You rolled over onto your opposite side, facing Atsumu’s sleeping face as he indulged in a deep slumber. The two of you were naked, yet you never fell asleep cuddling. Atsumu found those things to be “annoying” as it always put him in an uncomfortable position. 

He always fell asleep before you, too. 

And you’ve never heard him sing before, either. 

Though you’d never tell a soul, it was in moments like these that you wished _he_ was here. 

»»————- ♡ ————-««

“Cheers to another weekend!” Tanaka shouted, raising his glass in the air alongside Shimizu’s and yours before downing the hard liquor in one go. The three of you relieved satisfied sighs at the same time, happy it was finally Friday night. The bar Shimizu and you frequented these nights was more crowded than usual; everyone looking to ditch the business facade and lose themselves in booze and good times. 

You conversed with Shimizu and her long-term lover Tanaka, frequently checking the time on your phone in between sentences. ‘ _He was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago,’_ you thought, relieving a soft sigh while contemplating shutting the device off completely. 

“Is Atsumu still coming?” Shimizu asked as if reading your mind. You nodded your head and came up with a lie of his whereabouts to avoid seeing her look of disapproval. The only place Shimizu would ever agree to meet Atsumu would be at the bar because it’s the only place she could forget him in the morning. 

Much to fortune, however, your lover showed up five minutes later in a fitted leather jacket and ripped jeans, living up to the bad boy reputation he maintained through style. Tanaka didn’t know much about Atsumu, so he greeted him with a genuine smile and fist bump. Shimizu, on the other hand, smiled sweetly with a quiet ‘ _hello_ ’ before ignoring his presence for the remainder of the evening. 

The four of you drank to your heart’s content while chowing down on a basket of fried chicken, talking about typical things such as work related topics or fond memories. Atsumu’s hand rested atop your thigh, occasionally sliding up to far and receiving a piercing gaze as you swatted his hand. He merely laughed at your expression, undermining your boundaries and proceeding to touch you however he pleased. It was annoying, but you didn’t say anything for the sake of avoiding a potential argument. 

Later that night after bidding your farewells to Tanaka and Shimizu, Atsumu and you returned back to your apartment where he proceeded to indulge in his desires and fuck you mercilessly. 

You were on all fours, hands gripping the bed sheets as soft pants escaped your lips with each thrust he made inside you. Atsumu had one hand entangled in your hair as the other gripped your hips; his cock repeatedly slamming itself inside your body as deep as it would go. He grunted lowly as he approached his climax, slowly but surely meeting the peak of euphoria. 

“F-Fuck…” you whispered, feeling your legs tremble from an unbearable pressure building in the pit of your stomach. “Faster… please…” 

Contrary to the little things you’d ask him to do during the day, Atsumu obliged in every request you had in the bedroom. He nailed your sweet spot numerous times, smirking at the sound of your escalating cries of pleasure as you, too, felt an overwhelming orgasm making its way through your body. Your toes curled against the mattress as Atsumu’s nails pierced the skin around your hips, both of you seconds away from experiencing a much needed sexual release. 

“Y-Yes, right there,” you whimpered, then throwing your head back as he thrusted one final time, sending you over the edge. “Fuck—Akaashi!” 

It didn’t take a second after you blurted out a God forbidden name that you realized what you did. Turning around to face Atsumu, you were greeted by his hand coming into contact with your right cheek, leaving behind a searing handprint that shocked you. “I fucking knew it!” He shouted, then shoving your body back onto the mattress as he stepped out of bed. “You’re fucking someone else behind my back, aren’t you?” 

“N-No, wait, you’re mistaken—”

“How the fuck am I mistaken this time, y/n?” Atsumu asked harshly, looking at you with eyes that could murder someone. For a brief second, you felt afraid. “Who is Akaashi, huh? Is he that guy you went out for lunch with a while ago? I wasn’t wrong when I said you were fucking him behind my back, was I? And yet, you still fucking lied to me!” 

Unsure as of what to do to fix the situation, you reached out to touch Atsumu, yet he grasped both of your wrists in one hand and shoved you against the nearest piece of furniture—that being your vanity. “Please,” you begged. “You’re wrong, Atsumu. I swear I’m not sleeping with anyone else.” 

“Who the _fuck_ is Akaashi, then?” 

Tears blurred your vision as you opened your lips to say something, _anything_ , yet couldn’t seem to put words together. Your mind was still too intoxicated to think properly; all you felt was panic and the intense need to fix the situation. Atsumu chuckled dryly at the sight of you crying, then shoved your bare body onto the floor before proceeding to gather his things. “You’re a lying whore,” he seethed while tugging on his jeans. “You made me feel like I was delirious, and yet here you are, calling another man’s name with my dick inside you.” 

“It’s not what you think—”

“No, it’s exactly what I think.” Once he was dressed in his attire from earlier, Atsumu turned around and looked down at you pitifully sobbing on the hardwood floors. “You’re a fucking slut,” he seethed with the utmost detest. “Don’t ever call me again.” 

You were pathetic, honestly. Even after treating you so harshly, you proceeded to beg him to stay, terrified of being alone after committing such a grave mistake. He pushed you away one last time as you followed him to the entryway, causing you to collapse onto the ground yet again, jolting at the sound of the front door slamming shut. For the first time in six months, you found yourself completely alone with no one to call or turn to. 

It was just you, the midnight moon, and a flood of unwanted memories. 

The thought of your mother crossed your mind, and you felt disgusted being called the same things men once labeled her, such as ‘whore’ and ‘slut’. The numerous nights spent listening to her ‘paid sessions’ haunted you as you pleaded for the sound to go away; for the feelings associated with those memories to disappear. Bringing your knees to your chest, you cradled yourself on the living room floor, bare naked and alone. 

“I miss you,” you confessed, choking back on a sob as you longed for nothing more than those arms to embrace you one last time. 

“ _Akaashi_.”

»»————- ♡ ————-««

Tossing yet another styrofoam coffee cup into the trash bin next to your desk, you raked your eyes over the set of papers in your hands one last time before signing them off. The office was dimly lit, quiet and empty as you sat alone working overtime. If you had it your way, you’d live off the company’s instant coffee and work all hours of the day to avoid heading home alone, but unfortunately that wasn’t possible. 

And as it neared eight o’clock in the evening, you knew you had to leave soon. 

“Alright,” you said to yourself while setting the documents on the table. “If I’m going to leave, I might as well do it now. I’d rather get tonight over with as quickly as possible than wait it out.” It took a few more self-talks to motivate you to gather your belongings and exit the office, but eventually you managed to persuade yourself it was time to go home. ‘Maybe there’s something I need at the grocery store,’ you thought, pondering what it could be that would delay your arrival home, though nothing came to mind. 

It was just that time of the day. 

To be completely and utterly alone. 

You used the elevators to escort you to the company’s lobby, then proceeded to make your way home in the bustling streets of the city’s nightlife. Unwelcome feelings intruded your heart as you recalled a memory of a particular someone saying they enjoyed the liveliness of this city beneath the night sky. You could hear his voice in the back of your mind, remembering the beanie he wore that night to tame his disheveled locks, hands stuffed in his jean pockets as his eyes admired the unfamiliar faces and bright lights.

**[Flashback]**

“It feels like I can finally breathe,” Akaashi said, inhaling the city’s air as if it were fresh and untouched. “No expectations or living up to anyone’s hopes; it’s nice.” 

You clicked your tongue, thinking of the hell you’d have to endure once you return home. “I beg to differ,” you mumbled, pondering if your mother’s client this evening would be the abusive man from last night or the pervert from last week. Akaashi ever so slightly peered over his shoulder to meet your gaze, then took your hand into his and entwined your fingers. “Hey—” you said, blushing from the unexpected public display of affection. “Let go.” 

“What if I’m with you?” He asked, ignoring your protests. “Is the nighttime nice if I’m by your side?” His tone was matter of factly as if he already knew the answer to the question without having to hear your response. It wouldn’t have been hard to see, though; the soft expression you wore with rose tinged cheeks illuminated beneath the street lights gave away your true feelings. It was nice. 

It always was with him. 

“I suppose it’s not terrible,” you muttered, finding the touch of his skin to be calming, even if you were just holding hands. Akaashi’s boyish giggle rang throughout your ears as he pulled you closer to his side. 

“Don’t lie, idiot,” he said endearingly. “I know you love it here with me.” 

**[End of Flashback]**

‘ _Yeah_ ,’ you thought. ‘ _I did._ ’ 

It was as though your mind was playing tricks on you as you walked along the city sidewalks, catching a brief glimpse of a man not too far ahead of you with the same backside as Akaashi. He was a man, so his shoulders were broader, but he had the same disheveled hair you used to run your fingers through. You found yourself entranced with his familiarity to your past friend and lover, thinking about how improbable it would be if the two of you met again after all this time. 

And as you turned the opposite direction he did, a fleeting thought passing through your mind hit you like a tidal wave. 

_What if that is him?_

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw the man’s head beginning to blend in with the swarm of pedestrians surrounding him. Your feet began to follow his trail without much thought, and you cursed at yourself for being so desperate to confirm if this random stranger was or was not the guy you used to know. “This is absurd…” you whispered, finding it rather insane how you were following someone that could be an innocent, unfamiliar person, merely carrying on with their night. However, you couldn’t stop yourself. 

You had to put your mind in its place. 

That’s not Akaashi. Akaashi’s gone. 

_Forget about him._

Part of you genuinely wanted to be proven wrong; part of you wanted to see this person turn around and be a complete stranger; part of you wanted to be so devastated, that you had no choice but to move on. As you approached the crosswalk he waited patiently at, though, your eyes managed to lock onto his side profile and everything suddenly… _froze_. 

Those russet colored eyes seemingly disinterested in the world were unmistakable. Regardless if six or ten or fifteen years passed by, there was only one person who harbored the same presence as the person you once knew, and that was none other than the person himself. It was undeniable; the man you so desperately wished was someone else proved himself to be the one and only Akaashi Keiji. 

And as though he had felt a pair of eyes peering at him, Akaashi looked to the right, instantly locking with your gaze. His expression fell, mirroring the look of devastation painted across your countenance. It was as if strangers ceased walking, cars stopped driving, and all there was between the two of you was a million unanswered questions and unforgotten memories, both precious and unbearably painful. 

“ _Hi_.” 


	2. "As Friends"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After your unexpected and slightly unwanted reunion with Akaashi at the crosswalk, the two of you decide to get dinner. Little by little, as you frequently come across each other more often, the friendship you once had starts to bloom again. However, in terms of romance, there are limitations to heed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this includes descriptions of trauma during y/n's childhood, so please be aware of that for those of you who read. 
> 
> without further ado, enjoy! \\\\(>.<)//

This wasn’t exactly how you imagined tonight unfolding. 

Well, actually, you never imagined meeting Akaashi Keiji ever again, so you never planned out what it’d be like if you did. However, sitting down for drinks over dinner wasn’t quite what you expected. 

The expression of shock he wore moments ago was concealed by a now calm and collected fellow who seemed completely unaffected by your presence. You tapped your foot against the diner’s tiles anxiously, anticipating _something_ , be it a typical conversation starter or half-assed ‘ _how are you_.’ However, Akaashi just sat there, eyes glued to the window as he sipped on a glass of alcohol. “You know, perhaps I’m overthinking stuff over here, but…” his gaze drifted to yours. “Should we be sitting down for dinner right now? I don’t know, it just feels… _wrong_.” 

“I’ll admit, it’s definitely weird,” he replied as though he wasn’t the one who just asked you to dinner half an hour ago. “But, the past is the past. We shouldn’t brood over it.” 

‘ _This guy hasn’t changed a bit,_ ’ you thought, relieving a heavy sigh as you slumped into the diner’s chair, ‘ _He makes it seem as if nothing ever happened_.’ Unbeknownst to you, Akaashi was equally as apprehensive, and in the spur of a moment, asked you out to dinner. (After all, what else was he supposed to do when seeing you stand there? Walk away?). He, too, harbored feelings of his own about the past, but chose to leave them undisclosed. 

“I see you work at Mitsubishi Financial as well,” he commented, initiating a conversation at long last. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, puzzled.“How do you know?” 

“Name tag.” 

You glanced down at the small clip attached to the left side of your upper chest: _y/n l/n, Payroll Manager._ “Oh… Yeah, I do. I take it you work there, too?” 

Akaashi nodded. “I’m the supervisor of the marketing department.” _That was his office, then_. “I’m surprised we didn’t run into each other sooner.” 

“Actually, I recently transferred to the company from a smaller business,” you explained, somehow just now taking note of his finely pressed button up shirt and name brand coat he wore; it seemed Akaashi lived up to his parent’s ruthless expectations and made himself a figure in the world of business. “You landed a nice job that pays well. I bet your parents were pleased.” 

“I suppose I met a few of their expectations.” He brought the glass of scotch to his lips, pausing before taking a drink as his eyes closely monitored your expression, seemingly debating whether or not to say what it is he’s thinking. You sat there, quiet and patient, awaiting whatever it was he needed to say. “How’s your mom?” Akaashi eventually asked, hasty with his words as he downed the rest of the glass. 

Instantly, you felt your guard rise, brain suppressing the memories and feelings associated with that woman. As a way to defend yourself and avoid confrontation, you turned around and scanned the restaurant’s area, commenting how it had already been fifteen minutes since the two of you ordered. It was as though you never heard Akaashi ask those three words. 

He smirked to himself, setting the glass on the table and muttering an inaudible _“you haven’t changed”_ beneath his lips. 

The two of you soon received your requested meals, discussing lighter topics such as how college was for you, university for him, and so on. Akaashi went with his parent’s ideal school and attended Tokyo University post-graduation, whereas you enrolled in a community college cheap enough to get you a degree without paying a lifetime of debt off. Turns out he’s been working at the same company as you for a year now; this being his first official job out of school. You were happy to see him well after all the expectations and pressure placed on his shoulders during high school. 

In the midst of your small talk, Akaashi’s ringtone interrupted the conversation. He reached for his cell to see who it was, and with no reaction whatsoever to the caller, answered and held the device against his ear. “Hello?” He greeted, and you could faintly hear the sound of a woman’s voice through the opposite end. 

_‘It didn’t occur to me that he may have a girlfriend_ ,’ you thought, poking around at the food on your plate while listening to him speak. “Okay… sure… yeah, I will… alright, see you soon.” It was a short-lived phone call. Akaashi ended the line and shoved his phone back into the front pocket of his pressed slacks, then glanced across the table to meet your gaze. “I’ve got to go,” he stated, and before you could stop yourself, the question recklessly fell from your lips. 

“I take it that’s your girlfriend?” You asked, briefly pausing in shock of your boldness before forcing a casual laugh. “I didn’t know there was a lady out there patient enough to deal with you.”

“You’d be surprised how many are,” Akaashi replied with a slight tug of the lips, humored by the blank expression that fell upon your face. Taking a stand from the table the two of you sat at, he set a few bills next to the empty plates and glasses before bidding you farewell. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you sometime in the future, Ms. Payroll Manager.” 

“Likewise, Mr. Marketing Supervisor.” 

He chuckled softly before proceeding to leave the restaurant, definitely going to see his girlfriend wherever she may be. You relieved a heavy sigh once his presence disappeared, leaving behind a trail of lingering cologne that left you feeling discomposed. ‘ _He’s grown a lot_ ,’ you thought, blushing softly at the recollection of Akaashi’s broad shoulders and tall stature, then leaning your head into the palm of your hand. ‘ _He was abnormally calm tonight, though. Perhaps he moved on from the past a long time ago._ ’ 

If there were ever a moment for you to feel like the world’s biggest idiot, it was now. 

It had been six years since the night you ended your relationship; six years since Akaashi confessed he “couldn’t do it anymore”; six years since you lied and said you wished you had never met him; six years since you endured one of the worst nights of your life, unable to sleep as tears drenched the neckline of your t-shirt and pillowcase. Despite all the time you had to grieve and forget, though, you chose to suppress the memories and emotions, hoping they’d disappear someday as long as you left them untouched. 

And yet, here you are, the same person as the last time the two of you met. 

»»————- ♡ ————-««

“y/n!” A coworker addressed, speaking above the constant chaos of phone calls and printers to grasp your attention. Your eyes drifted from the computer’s screen a mere foot away to a man located halfway across the room waving documents in the air as if he were trying to extinguish a fire. “I need you to check this month’s payroll report!” He shouted, eyes glued to the pile of documents lying before him. 

You retrieved the forms from his hands before the paper tore from such careless handling. With a few choice words muttered beneath your breath and a quick sip of lukewarm brew, you proceeded to check not only the payroll report he requested you to do so, but also compiled summaries of this month’s company earnings and deductions. By the time lunch rolled around, you felt an oncoming migraine as numbers danced around in your head from having spent the past two hours analyzing costs and counting digit placements. 

“I’m going on break,” you commented to a coworker while slipping out of your desk’s chair. They nodded in response, at least acknowledging your words before you fled the department for savory food and fresh air. Since you were too exhausted to leave the company’s building in search of something to eat, you decided to dine in at the canteen for once. It would be your first time eating there, and although you hadn’t eaten in a cafeteria environment since high school, you were too tired to venture elsewhere. 

As you approached the canteen’s entrance, you noticed someone else from the opposite hallway heading there as well. Much to your surprise, it was none other than Mr. Marketing Supervisor, Akaashi Keiji. 

“Hey,” he greeted casually, then reaching for the door and gesturing for you to enter first. You thanked him quietly before slipping through the entrance, briefly catching a whiff of the cologne he wore a few days ago when you met. _‘As expected, it’s a little awkward_ ,’ you thought, finding the atmosphere to be somewhat stuffy. 

It had been a few days since you met your past lover and friend, Akaashi, after six years. Apparently the two of you work under the same company, though in different departments, so it was reasonable you hadn’t met until a few weeks into your transfer. Contrary to how Akaashi seemed to move on from the past somewhere within the time you were absent in his life, you still burdened many feelings and regrets, unable to properly deal with the memories you’re too afraid to confront. 

“How’s work going?” Akaashi asked as the two of you approached the canteen’s endless buffet. 

“It’s good.” ‘ _Other than the fact that I’m being pushed beyond my limits, deal with disrespectful coworkers everyday, and feel my head spinning from staring at numbers all shift_ ,’ you thought, piling a little bit of everything onto your plate from the buffet, ‘ _but I could never tell you that._ ’ Once you ran out of dishes to choose from, you were left with a plate piled plum high with home cooked foods and dessert. Akaashi, on the other hand, was still poking around at the containers, deciding whether or not he wanted to eat what was being served. 

You giggled at his indecisiveness, finding it amusing how his fastidious taste in food never changed. “You’re still as picky as ever,” you commented, grasping his attention. “Out of all the options here, you still settle for soup and crackers. What’s wrong with you?”

Akaashi’s eyes flickered to the plate in your hands, and he scoffed. “You’re one to talk,” he pointed out. “Still eating everything in sight, I see.” 

“How could you not when there’s so many choices?” 

“It’s called self-control, something you wouldn’t understand.”

You gasped, instinctively slapping his shoulder in defense, shocked at how second nature that felt. Akaashi didn’t mind, though. He let out a boyish giggle, head tipping back ever so slightly as he scrunched his nose, humored that that side of you never left. For a fleeting second, you could see the man before you in his high school uniform, the two of you sitting across from one another during lunch time, joking about each other’s food preferences. It was a peculiar feeling. Déjà vu, perhaps?

“You know, I never told you this, but I tried to cook for you once back then,” Akaashi confessed as the two of you claimed a table next to one of the many windows in the canteen. While tearing through the plastic that confined your silverware, you glanced his direction with an arched brow in revelation of such a secret. 

“Are you serious?” You asked. “What was it you tried to make?”

“Homemade ramen.” 

For someone who always had their meals prepared for them, you found it shocking that Akaashi attempted creating something for you of his own. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? I mean, I eat practically anything anyway, so even if it was a little overdone, I’m sure I would’ve finished it.”

“A little? More like _a lot_ ,” he said, the two of you then laughing in harmony. “I took too long chopping vegetables that I burnt the chicken, and while I was trying to fix that, I forgot about the noodles and overcooked them!” Tears brimmed in the corners of your eyes as you listened to Akaashi’s one and only story of trying to make something in the kitchen. It was a chaotic monstrosity, much like you expected, that you watched like a comedic film in your mind. 

“Why on earth did you decide to do such a thing?” You asked, attempting to grasp a sliver of composure, yet the thought of him panicking about burnt chicken made it difficult to do so. 

“Why? Because you were—” Akaashi ceased speaking mid-sentence, suddenly feeling as though his next words would be invading a dangerous territory. Neither of you had the courage to address the past, nor did he or you see it fit to do so, especially in the cafeteria of your workplace. “I thought I’d try it out,” he rephrased, forcing a smile to ensure you weren’t aware of his true feelings. “My parents were out of town, anyway, so why not?”

“I guess you learned something about yourself that day,” you jokingly replied. Akaashi chuckled, nodding his head in agreement. 

“Yeah, I did.” 

»»————- ♡ ————-«« **  
**

Shimizu groaned, banging her fists against the coffee table in frustration. “Do they not know how to receive the ball?” She asked, unable to handle the stress of tonight’s game: Japan’s national volleyball team against South Korea’s. You peered at her with an entertained smile, then tipped back tonight’s first shot of tequila. “Pour me one, please,” she requested while running her fingers through her hair. “I need it.” 

Doing as told, you handed her a shot of the distilled liquor. For as long as you knew Shimizu, she had always been passionate about volleyball, sometimes to an unhealthy extent. You remembered she once mentioned she was a powerhouse team’s manager in high school; perhaps that was where her interest in the sport stemmed from. “When is Tanaka stopping by?” 

“He should be here soon.” She drifted her gaze from the television to your eyes. “Do you want to stay and eat, or do you have somewhere to be with lover boy?”

A soft blush tinged your cheeks. “Lover boy?” 

“Don’t make me say his name,” she whined. “You know… _Atsumu_.” 

_Oh._

It occurred to you that you hadn’t seen Shimizu since last Saturday, which also happened to be the night the Atsumu and you ended the relationship. Pouring yourself yet another shot of tequila, you muttered a hasty _“we broke up”_ before downing the liquid. She sat up with a slightly surprised, slightly pleased expression, completely ignoring the live game airing before her.

“Wait, really? You left him?”

“That’s not how I would particularly describe it, but sure,” you replied, setting the miniature sized glass on the table and relieving a sigh. The midnight hours haven’t been too terrible to endure on your own since Akaashi came into the picture and startled your heart, but there were still many sleepless nights. And surely, as the days pass by, they’ll progressively get worse being alone.

“Why don’t I introduce you to someone?” Shimizu suggested. “Tanaka has a friend who’s hard working and kind, and I’m sure the two of you could—”

“I already told you I don’t want someone who has intentions of marriage,” you interjected with a light hint of annoyance in your tone. 

“What if they’re just _nice_? Say I find you someone who isn’t ready for a long-term commitment or settling down, but they’re a sweet and nice guy. Would you date them, then?”

It wasn’t as though you only dated men who mistreated you. There was one relationship you were in with a guy from college; it was at a period of time where you were no longer with Akaashi, and had yet to meet Shimizu. The man you were seeing was a gentleman, offered to pay at all the dates you went on, and was exceptionally kind to you. However… 

Whenever his fingertips would softly caress your skin, you thought of someone else. 

Whenever he kissed you tenderly, hand delicately rested upon the dip of your waist, you thought of someone else. 

Whenever he made love to your body—speaking not a word of degradation or leaving bruises the morning after, you thought of someone else. 

You thought of Akaashi. 

And it absolutely _sickened_ you.

“No,” you eventually responded. Looking up to meet Shimizu’s gaze, you smiled weakly at her face of disappointment. “I wouldn’t.” 

Before she had a chance to reply, the creak of her apartment’s door echoed into the living room, and the scent of fried chicken and sweet n’ sour sauce flooded the house. Tanaka came prancing around the hallway seconds later with two bags of takeout clutched in one hand and a duffle bag stuffed with gym equipment in the other. “I hope you’re hungry,” he greeted, lifting the plastic bag of greasy goods in the air. 

Shimizu looked at you with a troubled expression before standing up to go greet her boyfriend. You watched as Tanaka smiled, setting down the clutter in his arms to embrace her after a long day’s work. He always looked at Shimizu with the same gleam in his eyes as he did two years ago when they first started dating; never once did his affections for her fade. Truthfully, you wanted to have that, too— _anybody_ would, but you were afraid. 

A soft smirk tugged at the tips of your lips as you turned to face the television. “I really am an idiot,” you whispered. Akaashi had long forgiven and forgotten the events of the past, and yet here you were, suffering sleepless nights because of something that happened six years ago. How long was it going to be until you could give yourself to someone again?

Or, had you ever at all?

»»————- ♡ ————-««

It had been little over a month since you transferred to Mitsubishi Financial to claim the title as a payroll manager and invest countless hours into analyzing numbers and overseeing the flow of the company’s income. Sounds like a pretty important job, right?

Then why were you constantly in charge of handling the supervisor’s tedious tasks?

“I’m secretly the delivery girl, aren’t I?” You grumbled, pushing down on the elevator’s buttons and impatiently waiting for one to open. “Or perhaps, part of the contract I signed to work here stated that I’m also her personal assistant? What’s next, I start making her coffee?”

_God forbid that._

Your petty remarks were made for multiple reasons: one being that Mrs. Sugawara’s need to have papers delivered was at an extremely inconvenient time for you, yet there was nothing you could say to decline (after all, she _is_ your boss); two being that the documents were addressed to the marketing supervisor, and you didn’t have time to deal with whatever it was your heart felt the need to remind you of. The little butterflies it emitted whenever your eyes locked with Akaashi’s was troublesome, and with multiple reports needing to be written and submitted by five o’clock this evening, you didn’t have time for such emotions. 

Eventually, one of the stainless steel doors granted you access and you were escorted to the eighth floor. You were well accustomed to the layout of the marketing department at this point, and found your way to Akaashi’s office with ease. As you approached his room’s entryway, though, the sound of an unfamiliar female’s voice echoed into the hall. ‘ _That’s not his secretary,_ ’ you thought, heart rate increasing at the realization that the woman was probably his girlfriend. 

“My parents are planning to visit next month,” the female pointed out. Her voice was soft and feminine, rather pleasant to listen to. “Could you stay at my place the weekend they’re down?” 

“Depends,” Akaashi replied, followed by the sound of papers shuffling. “I’m pretty busy throughout April. I can visit, but in terms of staying overnight, I have work that needs to be—”

“These are my parent’s we’re talking about, Keiji.” A sharp pain struck your heart at the sound of her lips addressing his first name. “If I’m important to you, then you’ll make time to be there when I need you.” 

Silence fell between the two of them, and you gripped the documents in your hands tightly, nervous what his response would be. ‘ _If I’m important to you_ ’ were her words, meaning if he agrees to her request, then she’s—

“Alright,” Akaashi eventually responded. You felt your heart clench unbearably tight as it became increasingly difficult to breathe. As if reality hadn’t already made it clear to you that he moved on from your relationship, it was now. This woman was important to him; she held a meaning in his life that you no longer did. “I’ll be there.” 

“Thank you.” 

‘ _I shouldn’t be here_ ,’ you thought, turning to leave the scene, and accidentally bumping into Akaashi’s secretary when doing so. The two of you exchanged immediate apologies, and before either of you had time to say anything else, you handed her the documents in your hands. “These are for the supervisor,” you stated, then swiftly making your escape before he heard your voice in the hall. 

It had been long enough. The one-sided heartbreak you endured all those years, the endless dreams of the past, the countless tears and suffocating feelings of loneliness. You were going to confront them all; you were going to make the lingering feelings you had for him disappear. You made a vow to yourself in that moment that you _would_ move on. 

And that the tears you cried in the elevator that day for him would be the last ones. 

»»————- ♡ ————-««

The day started off as quiet and serene. The sun greeted you at six A.M. with birds chirping along the balcony’s railing, a soft breeze caressing your skin as you indulged in a morning without cars honking or neighbors arguing. It was peaceful; the type of moment you needed after a rough night’s sleep. 

And then, roughly around five o’clock, mother nature decided to turn its back on you. 

The skies turned a dusky grey, releasing their wrath upon the city in a million drops of water, booming thunder, and vibrant lightning bolts nearly striking the ground. You jolted each time a clash of thunder echoed throughout the empty office, coworkers having left hours ago as you stayed behind, hoping the rain would eventually stop. The longer you wait, though, the heavier it seems to get. 

‘ _Eventually, I’ll need to go home_ ,’ you thought, well aware your boss wouldn’t be too happy to see you here overnight, although you would stay if you could. Thunderstorms made sleeping significantly more difficult for you, triggering nightmares from your childhood you’d rather not recall. Having grown up with a mother as a notorious prostitute and a one-night stand father who probably didn’t even know you were a thing, you experienced your fair share of trauma. 

“Let’s get it over with,” you muttered. Regardless if you left now or an hour later, the outcome would still result with you drowning in tears, knees pressed against your chest, mind torturing you with memories, all through the night. Your heart was heavy as you left the office, letting out a soft whimper in the elevators as the thunder boomed yet again. Once approaching the company’s entrance, you stood a mere few feet away from the rainfall, staring at the sky with a troubled expression. 

_“y/n.”_

Your mother’s voice addressed in your mind. 

_“Open the door.”_

Your knuckles turned white as they clutched your purse straps tightly, shoulders tense as lightning lit up the night sky. 

_“I don’t want to,” you protested, sitting on the edge of your bed, intently watching the door knob jiggle as your mother demanded entry. ‘Please,’ you thought, tears staining your cheeks as desperation pulsed throughout your body, ‘please go away.’_

“Stop it,” you whispered, pressing the palm of your hand against your forehead as if that’d make your brain listen. 

_“y/n, quit fucking around. Open the door this instant.” Her tone grew increasingly harsh with each word. Your fingernails dug into the skin around your knees as you held yourself tightly, unaware that you accidentally cut yourself doing so._

_“Make him go away, and I’ll open the door,” you compromised, although you already knew the reason she wanted to enter your room, and how those words were meaningless. Money was your mother’s greatest temptation, even if it meant selling her daughter to a man for half an hour._

It was as if the sound of rain became equally as loud as the thunder. You squeezed your eyes shut, repeatedly whispering _‘stop it’_ to yourself, though your mind simply wouldn’t listen. 

_Despite your desperate plea of compromise, your mother used one of the clips in her hair to pick the lock to your bedroom door. You trembled in fear at the sight of her standing next to an unfamiliar man, one who emitted a minacious aura that struck you with fear to your very core. Your mother approached you from across the room, crouching next to your bedside and running her fingers through your hair. “Mama needs your help paying rent this month,” she cooed, smiling sweetly into your wide, horrified eyes._

_“Just give this man what he wants.”_

And in that moment, a hand latched onto your shoulder, causing you to turn around with tear stained cheeks and an appalled countenance. Akaashi’s eyes locked with yours, and immediately, his expression fell into one that expressed deep concern. “What’s wrong?” He asked, searching your gaze for answers. Placing both hands on either side of your shoulders, he gripped your arms tightly. “Tell me!” 

The way Akaashi’s voice reverberated throughout the building brought you back to reality. You peered down at his hands wrapped tightly around your arms, and he released his grasp, clearly regretful of his actions. “Sorry,” he apologized, diverting his gaze from yours to the floor. “I just… was worried for a second. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you… cry.” 

Silence fell between the two of you as you stood face-to-face, listening to the sound of rain thumping against windows and creating small rivers along the street’s edges. Similar to you, Akaashi seemed troubled tonight as well. “How about we go for a drink?” You asked, forcing a weak smile when his eyes met yours. “Friends do that, don’t they?” 

And to that, they do. 

The two of you soon found yourselves sitting shoulder-to-shoulder at a bar down the block from work. Akaashi ordered a negroni, a strong and bitter drink much unlike the malibu sunset you requested. Truth be told, you were relieved he accepted your offer for a drink. After experiencing a flashback like that at work, you could only imagine what the night would’ve been like at home alone. 

While sitting in silence with your beverages, the bartender approached the two of you with more pep-in-his-step than Akaashi and you combined. “You two look like you need some motivation,” he pointed out, to which both of you sent daggers his direction. “My bad, my bad. I was just going to ask if you had any song requests.” 

“Song requests?” 

“Yeah. On slow week-day nights like this, we usually ask customers what they want to listen to while they relax. Have anything in mind?”

You peered Akaashi’s direction while sipping on the cocktail resting between your fingers, not particularly interested in requesting music. Much to your surprise, though, Akaashi was. “My Type by Saint Motel,” he said, causing you to briefly choke on the alcohol mid-swallow. A faint smirk crept onto his face after seeing your reaction. “You remember it?”

“How could I forget? I’m surprised you do.” 

The bartender obliged in Akaashi’s request, and within a few seconds, you heard the familiar intro with the saxophone blare through the bar’s speakers. You rolled your eyes, unable to believe he actually remembers the night you two first heard this. “First dance of high school,” Akaashi began while slipping out of his chair. “Some guy asked you to the dance, and some girl asked me. We were bored throughout the entire night, though, and on the last song—”

“Ditched our dates and decided to go dancing together,” you finished with a knowing smile. That was before the two of you were even dating. 

“What do you say we create that night?” 

“You’re not serious, are you?” 

“As _friends_ ,” Akaashi added, then extending forward his hand with an arched brow and side-smile that made it impossible to turn down. You flickered your gaze from his palm to his eyes, cautious to accept the offer until he forced it upon you. Reaching for your hand on his own accord, Akaashi pulled you out of the bar stool and onto your feet. 

“I don’t even remember how to dance,” you said sheepishly, embarrassed by the few people who stared at the two of you. Akaashi started swaying side to side while snapping his fingers to the rhythm of the beat. 

“Oh, c’mon, no one danced better than you back then. You loved music; I can’t count the amount of times I saw you lose yourself to the rhythm.”

“Yeah, when I was _sixteen_.”

“And at twenty-four, I know you still can.” Despite Akaashi’s encouragement, you still found yourself hesitant to dance in the public’s eye. He patted you on the shoulder, gesturing to mimic his movements that were limited to finger snapping and swaying left and right. Giving in merely because he was too stubborn to let go, you began to move your body. 

And once the chorus came around, it was as if the music had possessed you. 

His smile grew as you began to add your own flare to freestyle dancing. You were never a professional when it came to moving your body, nor was dancing the exception, but _boy_ , did you enjoy it. The alcohol flowing through your bloodstream mixed with the beat, and you found yourself moving all over the floor without a lick of embarrassment or hesitation. At some point in the song, Akaashi joined and followed your lead, and the two of you proceeded to sing the lyrics as though no one were listening. 

“You-you-you’re just my type,

Oh, you got a pulse and you are breathing,

You-you-you’re just my type, 

Oh, I think it’s time that we get leaving…” 

Akaashi twirled you around, laughing as you returned the favor soon after. Stepping onto one of the booth’s seats, you hopped onto an empty table and threw your hands in the air, jumping to the beat of the song. The bartender chuckled at the two of you, pleased to see the once solemn sobers were now slightly tipsy and enjoying themselves. 

“Catch me!” You exclaimed, then leaping into Akaashi’s arms without a second to spare. He caught you (much to your fortune), and the both of you continued to dance to your heart’s content until the song came to an end. For the entirety of those three minutes, you never even heard a clash of thunder or strike of lightning; it was just music mingled with Akaashi’s laughter. 

“What’d I tell you?” He asked, taking a quick swig of his alcoholic beverage as if that’d quench his thirst. “You haven’t changed at all. You still dance like you did back then.”

“You changed a little, though,” you pointed out with a playful smirk. “You can finally carry me after all those years.” Akaashi rolled his eyes at your banter, catching a sneaky glimpse of you laughing; it always was his favorite expression. 

Now warmed up, you demanded the bartender play another one of your old favorites to lose yourself in. Akaashi admired the sight of sweat perspiring at the corners of your temple as you rolled the sleeves of your blouse, clearly anticipating the next song. There were many sides to each other you knew, some of which neither of you could stand, but in moments like this, Akaashi was thankful you never changed. 

He always did love watching you dance. 

»»————- ♡ ————-««

Little by little, the two of you came to embrace the friendship you once lost. 

Akaashi would take his lunch break at the same time you did, and both of you would meet at the canteen for whatever was on the menu that afternoon, sitting at the same table next to one of the many windows. You considered yourself brave for being able to talk to him such as you would long ago. ‘ _This is a great way to move on,’_ you thought, attempting to convince yourself this was confronting the past, ‘ _The best way to get over someone you love is to be friends.’_ Friendzoned was what people call it. 

That’s where you were, or so you tried to persuade yourself. 

Occasionally, if Akaashi’s girlfriend didn’t ask to meet after work, he and you would stop by the same bar you danced at one night. The bartender became an acquaintance, serving you drinks on the house once in a while and asking what the request was for the night. 

Shimizu took note of your recent behavior. She noticed you were happier–livelier, and carried a certain glow about yourself you didn’t before. It made her feel at ease; for a while there, she thought something was terribly wrong. And yeah, life still wasn’t ideal, the nights didn’t magically turn into peaceful slumbers nor did you feel any comfort in being alone, but things felt okay. You felt okay. 

“I… can’t tonight,” Akaashi said regretfully, declining your invitation to go to the bar after work. You peered upwards to meet his gaze, seeing something was definitely troubling him. 

“Why not?”

He hesitated, uneasy about what it was he needed to say, yet well-aware it had to be said anyway. “My girlfriend’s parents are in town this weekend, and she wants me to stay over tonight. We’ve had these plans for a while.” You froze, suddenly recalling the afternoon you went to deliver him a few papers and overheard a private conversation between him and his girlfriend. A heavy disappointment weighed on your heart as the food plated before you didn’t look as appetizing anymore. “Sorry, I should’ve told you,” he apologized.

Immediately, you concealed your disenchantment with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it! I never intended to intrude on your relationship, so please don’t apologize.” Squeezing the plastic dishware tightly in your hands, you felt as though someone were clenching your airway, making it difficult to breathe. ‘ _What am I so bothered by?’_ You thought, feeling not only a sizable amount of sadness weigh on your shoulders, but also frustration towards yourself, _‘I knew he had a girlfriend. I knew this day would be coming, so why does it still upset me so much?’_

“I just remembered I have a report to finish by two this afternoon, so I should get going,” you said while taking a stand from the table, then feeling Akaashi’s hand wrap around your wrist. His eyes briefly looked at you as if to say ‘don’t go,’ but he soon collected himself and retracted his touch. 

“I understand.” 

You thought you had prepared yourself for the day he would set you aside to tend to his woman’s needs, and regardless of whether or not you really had, it still hurt. Being Akaashi’s second choice was an entirely different pain of its own. 

As the day came to an end and the sun made way for the moon, you bid your coworkers farewell to return home. It was a tranquil night with little to no traffic; you could hear the faint sound of crickets chirping, shop bells ringing as customers seeked lake night snacks, and children laughing while they played an extra hour with their friends before curfew. The sounds you focused intently on to distract your mind were abruptly cut off the second you closed the front door. 

Kicking your shoes to the side, you collapsed onto the living room’s sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling above you. It was an unsettling feeling, knowing that you’ll dream something unpleasant the moment you lie down. Part of you felt like you were your own personal psychic, or perhaps you knew your subconscious too well. ‘ _It’s going to be about him tonight, huh,_ ’ you thought, then relieving a heavy sigh. 

And it’s going to be about that night. 

_A few hours later_

**[Dreaming]**

_A soft whimper escaped your lips as Akaashi’s hands held onto your waist, his cock pushed inside you as far as the tip would extend, clenched by your walls. At a slow and steady pace, he thrusted in and out of your body, merely inches away from your lips as they quivered uncontrollably. Your hands were clamped over your eyes as you sobbed, attempting to focus on Akaashi’s touch instead of that man’s, yet unable to keep from comparing the two._

_“Look at me,” Akaashi pleaded, trailing one of his hands across your skin, grazing the sensitive flesh around your nipple, then cupping the side of your cheek. You removed your hands from your eyes, locking with his deeply conflicted gaze. As much as you wished you could enjoy this moment, all you thought of was that unfamiliar man—a face you had never seen before that left deep-rooted scars on your heart._

_“Harder,” you pleaded, wishing for Akaashi to make the stranger’s image disappear from your mind. He obliged in your request, proceeding to thrust inside you with more force than before. The tears in your eyes wouldn’t stop flowing, though, as you thought of the way one of your mother’s clients harassed you._

_And the worst part of it all was that you compared that monster to the guy before you._

_Akaashi paused for a moment, then removed his length from your body. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he clenched his fists with his head hung low. “Why are you doing this…” he grumbled, then turning to meet your tear stained gaze with eyes of anguish. “How the fuck is this okay to you?”_

_You released a tremored breath, afraid to respond to his question in case he knew. “I-I don’t know what y—”_

_“I overheard a guy in my class talking about how his father was being questioned by the police for an assault,” Akaashi interjected, and you felt your body stiffen in fear. “Apparently he paid a prostitute to get his dick wet, then laid hands on her daughter.” You felt a tear trickle down your cheek as he looked at you with the utmost resentment. “That was you, wasn’t it?”_

_The only sound that escaped your lips was a sob. At your most exposed state, naked and trembling, you felt ashamed; not at your appearance, though, but for having not told Akaashi—your boyfriend, what happened several days ago. “I’m sorry…” you whispered weakly. “I’m so sorry, Akaashi—”_

_“I don’t want to hear another one of your fucking apologies!” He shouted, taking a stand from the mattress to run his fingers through his hair. “All I’ve ever wanted you to do is just talk to me. That’s it! I’ve known you for seven years, and yet, you still don’t trust me. You’d rather use my body to forget all the bad things instead of open up to me.”_

_“T-That’s not true…”_

_“Then why the fuck did you come over here and seduce me, huh?” You winced at the sharpness of his tone. “I had no idea that some shithead laid his hands on you, and you never had a damn intention of telling me. You were just going to take your clothes off and throw yourself at me because I’m that fucking weak to anything you do!” Akaashi’s chest heaved up and down as he looked at you lying on his bed, devastation covering his face. The moment you opened your lips to speak, he turned his head, unable to look at your broken expression while saying his next words-_

_“I can’t do this anymore.”_

_A moment of silence preceded his statement. You observed his bare backside, desperately wishing he’d turn around to look at you. However, if he did, he’d surely take it all back to dry your tears and console you, regardless of the wound you made on his heart. That’s how weak he was to your pleas._

_And that’s how much you hurt him._

_However, in your young adult mindset, it was Akaashi who betrayed you. “It’s as simple as that then, isn’t it?” You asked with a hint of bitterness. “I don’t tell you something, and the relationship’s over?”_

_“Don’t say it like that.”_

_There wasn’t a knife serrated enough to cut through the tension in the room. You hastily wiped the tears from your cheeks while taking a stand from the bed, and proceeded to gather your things. Akaashi caught a glimpse of your backside, noticing the faint sight of a fading bruise and clenching his fists tightly. “Get out,” he muttered, feeling a burning sensation in his eyes as tears of his own threatened to fall. “Hurry up and go!”_

_You quickly dressed yourself in the t-shirt and shorts you wore on your way over. Before leaving the room, you turned around to send a piercing dagger his direction. “I wish I never met you,” you seethed, then proceeding to leave the room. Akaashi stood there, feeling the most lost he’d ever felt in his entire life._

_You hurt him._

_And he hurt you, too._

**[End of Dream]**

The second your subconscious freed you from the nightmare, you sat up in bed, drenched in your own sweat and tears. It took a moment for you to gather your thoughts as you panted, attempting to recollect yourself mentally. Once you had, a soft chuckle fell from your lips. “I really am a psychic,” you said into thin air, falling back onto the pillow that caught your midnight tears. Bringing both hands to your face, you proceeded to sob into the palms of your hands, remembering why it was you never forgave yourself after all this time. 

Because you never opened yourself to him in the first place. 

»»————- ♡ ————-««

A soft breeze caressed the skin of your cheeks, ever so slightly lifting the tips of your hair as the faint sound of a train miles away echoed throughout the terminal. It was around six o’clock in the evening, and you watched as the sun melted into a variety of colors consisting of salmon and marigold, tinting the windows a shimmering bronze. Inhaling as much as your lungs would expand, you peered back down at your phone, exhaling away the doubts and insecurities. **  
**

[how are you?]

Atsumu sent you the three worded message approximately fifteen minutes ago, and since then, you’ve sat at the train station’s terminal in contemplation. _‘Do I respond?’_ You thought, hovering your thumb above the digital keyboard. Part of you said yes; Akaashi had a girlfriend, and what better way was there to move on than through someone else? However, another part of you said no; Atsumu wasn’t good news, nor did you love him. It was better to move on naturally.

You slipped the device into your purse, then stood up from the bench as the train approached the terminal. Once it came to a halt, you approached one of the carts, patiently waiting for the doors to open. It was a Saturday, so you prepared yourself for the crowd people about to run you over. 

The second the doors opened, you were nearly knocked onto your ass by the swarm of strangers exiting the carts. People shoved rather harshly into your body, seemingly in a rush to be somewhere specific on a Saturday evening. You struggled to push your way through the crowd, though eventually managed to claim one of the many empty seats on the cart. It seemed as if the entire neighboring city decided to visit tonight. 

Eventually, all the commotion settled, and the few who either stayed or boarded shortly ago were taken to the next destination. You situated yourself on the padless seats, briefly glancing at the few faces in your cart. Glancing to the man a mere two seats away from you, you were floored to see it was none other than Akaashi, eyes closed and lips slightly ajar. 

_‘Oh, he’s sleeping,’_ you thought, then taking note of his rather dressed down attire. Wasn’t he supposed to be with his girlfriend this weekend? It was only yesterday morning that he declined your offer to go drinking since he was leaving that night. You leaned forward to get a better view of his profile, soon noticing a crimson mark prominently exposed on his right cheek. _‘Did something happen between them?’_

Suddenly, you heard the sound of your cell’s ringtone. Reaching into your purse in search of the device, it didn’t surprise you to see Atsumu’s contact once you found it. 

[i want to make things right between us]

[let’s meet up somewhere soon]

Your gaze peered to the right, observing Akaashi’s side profile once more. The shirt he wore was wrinkled and exposed his collarbones from being one size too big; the sweatpants he wore had untied drawstrings, dangling over either side of his legs. He seemed so innocent and vulnerable sleeping on public transport like this, almost as if in need of protection despite being six foot. You looked back down at Atsumu’s contact, then turned your phone off. 

_The answer’s no._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed pt two! while writing this, i fall a little more in love with akaashi lol. next chapter is when things start to get heated, please anticipate it hehe
> 
> (also, idk why it says 'chapter 2 coming soon' below. tried to make it go away but alas, i'm clueless to the mechanics of ao3. sorry~)

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 coming soon~ (:


End file.
